


Blood Diamond

by AizawaKitty1697



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Healing, Lucio's an asshole in this one, Magic, Muriel Thirst, Muriel's Gladiator Days, Origin Story, Other, Porn With Plot, Pre-Canon, Pregnancy, Rough Sex, Sex Club, Size Kink, Sorry Lucio fans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22809508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AizawaKitty1697/pseuds/AizawaKitty1697
Summary: The power-hungry new king Lucio starts hosting gladiator fights as a show of strength. He acquires The Scourge of the South to be his champion, and you're tasked with serving as the Scourge's healer. You slowly realize Muriel's not the monster everyone thinks him to be. When Lucio's lust for power gets the best of him, you and Muriel are pushed past the point of no return and must rely on each other to survive.
Relationships: Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Muriel (The Arcana)/Original Character(s), Muriel (The Arcana)/Original Female Character(s), Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader, Muriel (The Arcana)/You
Comments: 29
Kudos: 306





	1. Gladiator Games

As a Nadia’s childhood friend and confidant, you had your fair share of the finer things in life … but her new husband’s tastes are extravagant to the point of garishness. Nadia’s mother the Empress of Prakra arranged her marriage to Lucio to maintain goodwill between your kingdom and the port city of Vesuvia. Prakra is known for its vast resources, but it is landlocked and relies on Vesuvia to export its goods to other kingdoms. Nadia, ever dutiful and diplomatic, agreed to the marriage on the condition she would have her own private chambers and an entire wing of the palace to serve as headquarters for her charity work.  
You were trained in medicinal magic, earning you the position of Palace Healer. The job comes with its ups and downs. You get to enjoy the luxury of palace life by day, which is offset by the countless hours you spend tending to the hungover aftermath of Lucio’s extravagant nights out. It's safe to say the two of you don’t exactly get along.  
Lucio arrived in Vesuvia only two years ago but had worked his way up the political ladder with his charm, wit, and cunning. Now that he has finally taken the throne, he won’t let anyone forget it. Lucio’s interests are as diverse as they are expensive. A few months ago, he decided to commission statues of himself for every major square in the city. After that, he deemed it necessary to costume all of the palace servants (including the gardeners) with the finest Nevivion silk. Recently he has taken a liking to gambling on underground fights. Never the one to miss an opportunity, he adapted his favorite (illegal) pastime into entertainment for foreign dignitaries by hosting Vesuvia’s first ever gladiator fights. He even converted Vesuvia’s performing arts coliseum into a gladiator arena. Tonight, he will be introducing his newly acquired champion, known only as “The Scourge of the South”. Palace rumor had it that Lucio bet a huge sum of money against the Scourge in an underground fight, only to lose it all when the Scourge crushed the other fighter’s skull with one hand. In a fit of humiliation, Lucio had the Scourge arrested and presented him an ultimatum: execution by beheading, or a new life as his prize gladiator.

* * *

  
You're seated for dinner at the banquet table in the palace's Grand Hall. The table is set with a lavish first course of lamb and Vesuvian spiced fruit rice. This week, the palace is hosting powerful merchants from the desert kingdom of Anatolia. The ocean breeze floats into the grand dining hall, carrying the sounds of ocean waves and gulls. It's almost enough distract you from Lucio's incessant monologuing. Almost. You eat in silence, only halfway listening to Lucio regaling the details of past gladiator fights to the guests. In the middle of a particularly impassioned story, he swings open his arms and knocks a tray of fruit from the hands of a flustered servant. You exchange a glance across the table with Nadia, who is hiding an amused grin behind her wine glass. You can feel Lucio’s eyes burning into you from the other end of the table. After the commotion settles and Lucio scolds the poor servant to the point of tears, he turns back to the dinner guests. “Oh! Yes, I almost forgot, dear Y/n,” he purrs, “starting tonight, you will serve as the healer for our new friend The Scourge. Try to keep him in good shape, he was very expensive.” He lifts his wine glass and toasts to victory, smirking.

* * *

The sun is beginning to set over the ocean. You can hear the roars of the crowd at the gladiator arena from your window seat in your private quarters. Glancing over at the hourglass on your table, you sigh and set your book aside. You shoulder your bag of salves and tinctures then slip on a pair of practical shoes. Now is as good a time as any to start heading over to the coliseum.  
After a brisk walk from the palace, you arrive. The enormous stone coliseum looms over you, the crowd almost deafening. Now that you are closer, you can also make out the clanking of metal and dogs barking. You approach the doors of the coliseum barracks and present your royal seal to the guards. They step aside, allowing you entrance to the stone staircase that descends into the coliseum’s dim underbelly. Suddenly, you hear a blood-curdling scream that freezes you in your tracks. After a brief moment of stunned silence, the crowd roars in celebration. One of the guards, a rosy-faced young man in his early twenties, glances at you sympathetically. “You … get used to it eventually,” he offers, before gesturing down the steps.  
You make your way down the stairs and into a long stone hallway. As your eyes adjust, you can make out cells occupied by sleeping prisoners. Wild beasts growl at you from the cages lining the hall. As you continue, you see tunnels branching off into even deeper sections of the coliseum. A rat skitters by your feet. Finally, you reach the large wooden door at the end of the hallway and enter.  
The room is illuminated by torches on the walls. A heavy wooden bathtub sits in the middle of the room. A massive stone bench with a burlap mattress protrudes from the back wall. Near the ceiling is a small barred window that opens to the street. What meager light remains at dusk filters through the tiny window. Small puffs of dust sift into the room, kicked up by the passers-by exiting the arena. You can hear chains rattling and heavy footsteps approaching from the stone hallway. You close your eyes and breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the work ahead of you. Then you turn to greet The Scourge of the South.


	2. Muriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw for a teeny bit at the end UwU  
> inspired by Ch 3 of "Catastrophe Reigns" by @keanubot

The four guards escorting him step aside as he approaches the doorway to the cell. You find yourself facing a behemoth, drenched in blood and dirt. Long, matted hair covers his face. The manacles around his wrists are bound by iron chains to a heavy leather collar buckled to his neck . He looks feral. “Move,” he rumbles, voice deep and raspy with exhaustion. You shuffle to the side timidly, watching cautiously as he ducks through the doorway. _He wouldn’t hurt you, right?_ You reason, trying to calm your rapid heartbeat. _You’re here to help him, he wouldn’t hurt you…_ In the hallway, the guards take their posts on either side of the cell’s entrance, then swing the massive wooden door shut with a thud. _Fuuuuck you, Lucio_ …

The Scourge shuffles over to his bed, chains clanking ominously. Keeping your eyes down, you draw a bath for the wounded gladiator and begin unpacking your medicine bag. Your eyes flash to the trail of blood he left on the stone floor behind him. After a long stretch of silence, you speak. “My name is Y/n. I have been assigned as your healer.” Another long silence. “I need to clean your wounds…would it be okay if…um…would you mind…” you tilt your head toward bath. He groans, but stands up. You turn to face the door, giving him as much privacy as the small quarters allow. You hear the shuffling of fabric and rattle of chains, then the creak of the large wooden tub as he submerges himself in the water. Only then do you turn around. The water is red with blood. You're unsure if it's his. You fill a small bowl with water and herbal salts, then begin gently wiping down his face and hair. His eyes remain screwed shut, hands firmly gripping the sides of the tub. You find yourself smiling at that --- you might’ve even found it cute, were he not a 7 foot wall of muscle soaking in a literal bloodbath.

You push his hair out of his face to check for head wounds. Above his eyebrow, a fresh gash is dripping blood. Working quickly, you pull a healing salve from your kit and dab it gently on the wound. He tightens his jaw and averts his gaze as you apply the stinging salve _._ In a few minutes, new skin is already beginning to close the wound. As you put away the bowl and salve, you find yourself studying his features. A large scar crosses the olive skin of his left cheek, spanning from his dark brow to his full lips. His raven hair is pushed back, giving you a better view of his sharp cheekbones and strong nose. _He’s...not bad looking._ you think, _Gorgeous, actually…_ You immediately push the thought away. _What the hell is wrong with you?_

“Go ahead and dry off for me so I can check for larger wounds and fractures,” you instruct, handing him a towel and turning again to face the door. You hea the water splash behind you, a few soft footsteps, a groan…and then he spoke. “Y/n? I’m ready.” His voice is still low, but softer than before. More tired. You turn to see him sitting on the edge of his stone bed, towel wrapped around his narrow hips. His massive, heavily muscled shoulders and chest gleam in the flickering light of the torches. You can see an old, raised scar running over his chest and a several slightly newer ones crisscrossing his belly. His tight abdominal muscles twitch slightly with each pained inhale. A spark of heat jumps in your core. You scold yourself internally. _Focus._ A quick glance-over shows that he doesn't have any open wounds. Now all you have to worry about is internal damage. Concentrating, you draw healing magic into your hands until they begin to glow with a soft blue light. You check for broken ribs and damaged organs first, passing your hands over his abdomen and back. The blue light jumps from your hand into his chest suddenly, and his eyes snap open in surprise. You find yourself staring into the brightest emerald green you had ever seen. _Gods._ You tear your gaze away and speak quickly, “It’s just a bruised rib. Not broken. The magic should heal it within a couple hours.” Blushing, you turn to put away your medical supplies. Another long silence, then you hear a shuffle as he clothes himself and lies back onto the mattress. You start for the door but stop just short and turn around. “Hey,” you say softly, “What’s your name?”

After a few moments, the Scourge responds. 

“Muriel.”

You pause. “Well, it was nice to meet you Muriel. Good night.”

You exit with a strange feeling of melancholy. As you walk down the hall, you hear the guards locking heavy deadbolt on Muriel’s cell with a thud. As you exit the coliseum and start back toward the castle, you pass by a small window in the wall near the floor. You can swear you heard a quiet sob.

* * *

Back at the castle, you finish your evening drinking wine and chatting on the balcony of Nadia's vast library. Meanwhile, Lucio is out on the town with the Anatolian merchants, doing gods know what. Nadia and you discuss how trading with the Anatolian merchants will help Vesuvian shipmakers get out of their current economic slump. "It's too bad Vesuvia can't find a more...civilized way of establishing a trade relationship with Anatolia," she sighs. Nadia feels that the gladiator matches were distasteful, but given Lucio's short attention span, she assures you that they won't be around for long. Somehow that makes you feel better. 

That night, you lie in bed as the sound of the ocean waves float through your window on the cool night breeze. You drift off to sleep, thoughts becoming dreams. You dream that a raven-haired man hovers above you, his muscled biceps braced on either side of your head. Heavy-lidded emerald eyes gaze down at you as a rough hand slowly trails down your body toward your heat. _You want it?_ he growls against your ear, then pushes a thick finger into you...


	3. Cinnamon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: brief PTSD

It would be another three weeks until he has to fight again. Muriel is lying on his back, watching the morning sun stream in through the tiny window in his cell. Outside, he can hear the bustle of the waking city. The smell of warm cinnamon bread wafts into the cell. He daydreams about his youth in the streets with Asra, how they would save up for weeks to buy a loaf of cinnamon bread from the market. How they would share it as they watched the ships come in and out of the harbor and talk about all the places they'd travel when they grew up. If only he'd known then.

He thinks about how Asra was one of the only people in Vesuvia who knew him as anything besides "The Scourge of the South." And he wasn't even sure if Asra was still in Vesuvia. The underground dons had insisted on "breaking" Muriel through physical torture and social isolation to transform him into a perfect killer. He had lost contact with Asra after a while, and he no longer heard from him. 

There was also his healer. He couldn't explain why, but you were different from most people. Familiar, safe. Maybe it's because your magic reminds him of Asra. Maybe it's because you're a foreigner too, just like Muriel. Maybe it was your gentle demeanor...your bright eyes that looked at him like he was a person. He hasn't been looked at that way in a long time. He thinks about how gently you had cleaned his face. He remembers your slender, glowing hands. How they looked running over his chest...his abdomen...his hips. He feels his cock pulse at the thought. He imagines those beautiful hands venturing lower until...

A knock on the cell door breaks him out of his reverie. He lifts himself from the bed, groaning at the dull ache around his newly healed rib. A tray of boiled meat and gray porridge is pushed through the slot in the door. Muriel looks at it for a moment, then carries it over to his bed. He eats the porridge and glances at the meat. It's undercooked and bloody. A bone pokes out, probably a goat leg. Muriel is suddenly overtaken by a sickening feeling. Memories of shattered human bone piercing through skin flash before his eyes. He vomits into his waste bucket. 

* * *

It had been a couple days since you had tended to Muriel. Your mind was preoccupied with palace affairs --- namely, trying to clean up the diplomatic mess Lucio had caused a few nights prior. During his night out with the Anatolian merchants, Lucio had one too many drinks and started a barfight after a sailor called him "Southern prettyboy." The fight ended up spilling onto the street, and the merchants were given parting gifts of broken noses and black eyes. They'd left at dawn the next morning, furious. At breakfast, Lucio insisted that they were good-for-nothing swindlers anyway, and promised Nadia he'd find a better way to put Vesuvia's ship builders back in business. 

Nadia decides to send you on a few errands around town to help diffuse the tension in the palace. You slip into an elegant blue kaftan and satin shoes, then secure your coin satchel around your waist before heading to the marketplace. As you draw nearer to the vibrant, noisy market, you realize how close it was to the coliseum. Thoughts of Muriel cross your mind. You quickly pushed them away when you recall the embarrassing dream you had a few nights prior. And the night after that. Maybe if you had time, you could check on him later. Just to see how he's recovering. "Cinnamon bread! Cinnamon bread!" the baker calls out jovially. You smile to yourself. _How can I resist?_

A few hours later, arms laden with bags of sweets and exotic perfumes, you begin your journey back to the palace. As you pass the coliseum, a scrawny gray puppy crosses your path. You watch it ravenously devour a piece of boiled goat leg on the ground near a barred window in the coliseum wall. You wonder if it was coincidence. Checking the position of the sun, you reason you have enough time to visit your patient and still make it back to the palace in time. You adjust your bags and walk toward the entrance of the coliseum.

* * *

Muriel was in the middle of a set of push-ups when he hears the deadbolt on his door slide open. He straightens himself, fully expecting that bastard Lucio to come strutting through the doorway. Instead, your form floats across the threshold, bearing a smile and a loaf of cinnamon bread.

As soon as you cross the threshold, the guards shut the door behind you and deadbolt it. _Is that really necessary?_ You wonder to yourself, annoyed. Looking at the hulking man in front of you, you decide it just might be. He stands straight, and for the first time you really get a sense of his size. He towers over you, arms crossed. He's wearing only a heavy loincloth and some furs held up by the thick leather belts around his waist. His upper body was completely bare and glistening with sweat. In any other situation, you'd be terrified. But you knew better. You weren't sure how, but you knew you could trust Muriel. 

"I was at the market today and thought I'd check up on you, to see how you're recovering," you smile up at him. He averts his gaze. _He's probably annoyed at me barging in on him like this_ , you chide yourself internally.

"You...didn't have to." He finally meets your gaze again, those stunning green eyes peering through his dark eyelashes. 

"I wanted to." You pause before continuing. "I've...been thinking about you."

Muriel's tan complexion suddenly blooms into a deep scarlet blush, spreading from his face down to his neck. His lips press together in a squiggly line and he looks back down at the stone floor. 

Upon seeing his flustered expression, you feel a twinge of tenderness pull at your heart. _Who would've known the Scourge of the South was this shy?_

"You, uh, look like you're healing well," you offer. "And I was at the market and thought you might like this. No worries if you don't, more for me." You giggle nervously, then extend the loaf of cinnamon bread. 

After a moment of hesitation, he takes it from your hand. He turns and sits down on the edge of his cot. He pauses, then swallows thickly and speaks. 

"Would you want to share?" 

"...of course."

* * *


	4. In the Rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW-ish (well I guess it depends where you work. But why are you reading fanfic at work in the first place HMMMMMM? jkjk. Anways you have your first kiss with the Mountain Man)

You’d picked up the habit of visiting Muriel every evening, excusing yourself from the palace under the pretense of errands or long walks though the garden. You didn’t want to stir up any palace rumors about you and the Scourge, especially none that would find their way to Lucio. Nadia played along, feigning ignorance of your true intentions. Nevertheless, she supplemented your wardrobe with beautiful yet cleverly form-fitting outfits for your evening excursions. “I had tea with the palace tailor and thought I’d get you something nice, that’s all,” she explained innocently. The mischievous gleam in her eye told you otherwise. _She knows me too well_ , you thought, and you thanked her with a wink.

The evening visits to the coliseum barracks usually consisted of you recounting your day to Muriel. It was a shame his world had been reduced to the four walls of his cell and the stage of the gladiator arena. You tried to offer him reprieve from the heavy gloom of his surroundings, weaving detailed descriptions of the outdoors into your stories. Admittedly, you sometimes embellished the stories a little. But you did it all for those brief moments where his eyes sparkled, or his mouth turned up in a shy smile.

Muriel, on the other hand, took a little longer to open up. At first, he was careful not to sit too close to you or hold eye contact for too long. As time passed though, he opened up to you about his childhood as an orphan, growing up on the streets of Vesuvia, and how he was captured and sold into the fighting world. He mentioned his childhood friend Asra often. You remember hearing that name here and there in the palace. From what you’d heard, Asra had been a promising apprentice under the former king’s magician. But when Lucio took the throne, he disappeared from Vesuvia without a trace.

As you get to know each other, you notice the physical distance between you also starts to close. Muriel begins holding eye contact with you as you tell him your stories. With those stunning green eyes locked on yours, it’s all you can do not to lose your train of thought completely. One night, he stops sitting on the floor and instead sits next to you on the cot. _Look who’s the shy one now_ , you think to yourself as butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach. You’re close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his massive body, sending a shiver down your spine. A lock of black hair falls over his forehead and nose, drawing your attention to the gentle smile playing across his lips. A warm flush creeps up your neck and over your cheeks as you find yourself stumbling through the day’s events. Thankfully, Muriel still seems interested in your story (if not a little confused by your sudden nervousness).  
As you bid Muriel goodnight and turn to leave, you hear the rattle of chains behind you. Suddenly, a warm, calloused hand is resting on your shoulder. “Wait, Y/n.” he says reluctantly.   
Your heart begins to race as you turn back to face him, trying to keep your composure. He stands over you, close enough that you can see his broad, scarred chest rising and falling beneath his ragged, heavy cloak.  
“Yes, Muriel?”  
“Your visits…er…this…you mean a lot to me. So…thank you.” A deep blush warms his face and he looks away quickly.  
Your heart pounds faster, all coherent thought disappearing from your brain as you look up at the gorgeous man standing before you.  
A single thought crosses your mind at that moment.  
_Fuck it._  
You raise your hand and caress his cheek. He turns his face back toward you, eyes opened wide in surprise.  
Suddenly, your lips are on his.  
You kiss him hard, closing your eyes and feeling his warm lips against yours.   
After a long moment, you draw back, leaving only the tips of your noses touching.   
A moment passes. You hold your breath, eyes still shut.  
Then you feel his lips return, pressing down softly into yours. He kisses you slowly, savoring you. You taste like milk and honey. A low groan catches in his throat. Muriel had imagined kissing you countless times over the past few weeks, but none of his fantasies even came close to the real thing. He wraps his arms around you, not wanting the moment to end.

You feel his muscle-bound arms enclose you as he pulls you deeper into the kiss. His large hands rest above the small of your back, nearly encircling your waist. He pulls your soft body flush against him. The cold iron of his chains brush against your forearms and a shiver travels up your back. The feeling is not unpleasant. You sigh against his mouth, sliding your fingers into his thick raven-colored locks. A soft rumble escapes his chest and he drags his lips across your cheek, pressing a kiss against your neck. You can feel the heat pooling between your thighs. You press them together, seeking some relief. Muriel continues gently sucking kisses into your neck, then behind your ear...

A soft moan escapes you, and you feel lightheaded.

A knock at the door startles the two of you. He reluctantly pulls away as you unwind your fingers from his long hair. His looks at you with half-lidded eyes, flushed lips still parted slightly. 

"Y/n? Are you alright?" calls a guard from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

"Yes, I was just about to leave," you reply, taking a final, long look at Muriel's beautifully disheveled state. 

You plant a quick kiss to his cheek and whisper in his ear.

"I'll be back soon."

You turn around just in time to see the guard open the door. Luckily, they don't take much interest in either of you. You nod courteously and they close the door behind you, slamming the deadbolt shut.

That night on your way back to the palace, you feel as though you are walking on clouds. 


	5. Salty Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Drugging

Warm light shines into the marble atrium, illuminating the koi ponds and lush plants within. You'd been up until the early hours of morning healing the wounds of a young servant boy that Lucio had loosed his hounds upon for no reason other than his twisted sense of entertainment. He'd dragged the bleeding boy into your room, threatening you with the same fate if you didn't fix him up by morning. You looked at the boy's mangled arm and bloody face in horror. He couldn't have been older than 13. The edges of your vision turned red with hatred. _I don't know when, or how...but you'll pay for this, Lucio_ , you vowed. The procedure had taken hours to complete, leaving you physically and emotionally exhausted. The boy was returned to the servant's quarters to finish out his recovery. Afterwards, you'd fallen into a long, dreamless sleep, waking up to the sun already approaching its noontime summit. You decided to visit the atrium to practice some meditative breathing exercises and replenish your magical energy. As you approach, you smile at a couple of palace servants tending the wisteria vines draping luxuriously across the marble arches of the atrium's entrance. You exchange pleasantries with the pair---a small redhead and a tall brunette---then make your way to an alcove decorated with opulent rugs and richly embroidered cushions. 

You ground and center, then begin your breathing exercises. Closing your eyes, you draw your focus into the present and let the sound of the bubbling koi pond wash over you. Already, you feel lighter and more energized. From the entryway, you can hear the two servants chatting with one another.

"One of the palace guards told me that pirate ships were seen docking in Ambar Cove, right outside of the city!"

"Oh dear! How many?"

A smile crosses your face. There's never a dull day when it comes to palace gossip. 

"I don't know. I shouldn't even be telling you about it, since I promised the guard I wouldn't. But since you're my friend I thought you should know..."

 _Ah,_ you think. _That must be the bubbly little redhead one._ Despite being relatively new to the palace, she's already become the hub of all the palace's rumors and goings-on. 

You finish out your breathing exercises by pressing your palms together and letting a warm aura of blue magic glow between them. With a long exhale, you release the soft light into the air as an offering of gratitude to the gods. 

* * *

That evening as you are preparing for dinner, you hear a knock on your chamber doors. You open the door and are greeted by one of Lucio's palace messengers.   
He bows quickly, then speaks: "His Royal Highness Count Lucio regrets to inform you that, due to unforseen circumstances, this evening's dinner has been canceled. Your meal this evening will be delivered to your chambers. He extends his wholehearted apologies." 

_Hah,_ you think. _Him and what heart?_

"Thank you," you reply to the messenger with a nod. "You are dismissed."

About an hour later, there is another knock at your door. 

"Come in," you call from your reading spot by the window. A servant enters, pushing a cart with the evening's meal. _That smells amazing,_ you think excitedly, motioning for them to leave it near the couch at the foot of your bed. They remove the silver cloche, revealing a tantalizing presentation of steamed shellfish and risotto. The servant bows and exits your chambers, closing the door behind them. 

You finish the entire meal, enjoying each flavorful bite. As your stomach settles, you return to your reading spot to continue your book.

An hour passes, and the sun begins to sink into the waters over the horizon. As you look up to admire the sunset, you are hit by a strange wave of nausea. 

You stand up slowly, holding onto the window ledge for support. The nausea subsides for a moment, and you step toward the doorway to call for assistance. 

Then, all at once, your legs give way beneath you. You feel yourself crumble to the floor as if in slow-motion.

Your vision goes black.

* * *

Muriel stares at the small rectangle of light cast onto the stone floor by the cell's window. He is supposed to fight today, but the guards still haven't come to escort him to the arena. His stomach turns. Something is wrong. Muriel waits for what feels like an eternity. The light from the window turns from a soft gold, to a bright orange, and finally a dusky blue. As the very last of it dwindles away, the deadbolt on his cell slams open with a loud _crack._

Lucio stands in the doorway, flanked by at least a dozen rough, large, wild-eyed men. A glint of metal catches Muriel's eye. He realizes the men are armed with a miscellany of weapons---scimitars, pistols, machetes...

He'd only seen men like this once before, when he was a child at the docks. But it was enough for him to know who they were. 

_Pirates._

"Hey there, big guy!" Lucio announces as he steps brazenly over the threshold. Muriel steps back defensively. 

"Aw, come on buddy. Weren't you excited for your fight? I know I was." Lucio flashes a sharp-toothed grin at Muriel.

"Unfortunately", he croons, "we've run into a little change of plans. I _was_ planning to entertain our esteemed guests with one of Vesuvia's world-famous gladiator fights. But during our business negotiations, they requested... _alternative_ entertainment."

The pirate horde breaks out into a cacophony of laughter and hooting. Lucio turns to face them with a wide grin, clapping Muriel firmly on the shoulder.

"Don't you worry though, my friend. Your night isn't over yet. In fact, you're going to be the star of the show."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2/23/2020) Thanks for sticking with me this far guys! I'm gonna try and have the next chapter up soon, I'm moving apartments so I haven't had time to work on it. I'm planning on having Ch 6 up tonight!


	6. The Lion's Den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: physical violence, verbal abuse, dub con nudity  
> light NSFW but no smut
> 
> ***Quick Announcement***  
> I will be going on 1.5 week hiatus to finish moving. I have the rest of the story drafted so once I'm done moving I'll have it up as soon as possible (hopefully by March 3rd)! Thank you for all the kudos, this is my first fic so it really means alot that people enjoy it <3

Muriel (surrounded by four guards), Count Lucio, and the pirate mob make their way up the stone hall and out of the barracks. 

"You!" Lucio snaps at the rosy-faced young sentinel. "Go tell the stable master to bring around three stagecoaches ---" Lucio pauses briefly, eyeing Muriel, "---and a cart. _Skynda dig!_ We don't have all night." The guard bows sheepishly, then dashes off toward the stables.

Soon, three ornate stagecoaches turn the corner. Each is drawn by a team of six cream-colored horses, manes groomed to a glistening sheen. The stagecoaches themselves are trimmed in gold and paneled with expensive Xilanese stained glass. The coach drivers bow deeply and open the doors with a flourish, gesturing for the Lucio and his entourage to board. A few moments later, a rickety wooden cart turns the corner, drawn by a team of two tired-looking workhorses. The cart is little more than a few wooden boards surrounded by a dilapidated guard rail---the kind used for transporting bushels of hay. One of the guards prods Muriel with his spear, ushering him into the cart. Muriel steps in and tentatively seats himself on the splintery deck. Another guard comes around and shackles his ankles to a metal ring on the floor. Muriel sees Lucio whisper something to the lead driver before stepping into the stagecoach. The driver signals to his associates and they nod in acknowledgement, lowering their eyes. 

The cavalcade makes its way down the cobbled street into the city. It passes the marketplace, now teeming with food carts and street performers. The crowd turns to watch as they pass, speculating among themselves. 

"I wonder if that's the Count!"   
"It has to be, look at how _expensive_ those coaches are."  
"I can't believe he canceled the gladiator fight on such short notice."  
"Do you think he was worried about those pirates showing up?"  
"Don't be so _impressionable_ , there aren't any pirates. The Royal Press released a communiqué dismissing those rumors. You can't just go around believing everything you hear in the streets."

Then all eyes turn to Muriel.

"The Scourge of the South --- is that you? I love seeing you perform!" cries a spectator.

"How dare you!" another furiously retorts. "That monster murdered my cousin. All he fucking did was steal a piece of cod to feed his family --- and that bastard MURDERED HIM!" 

_I didn't want to,_ Muriel pleads silently. _I never wanted to hurt anyone...I didn't want to, I didn't want to ididntwantto..._

A jagged stone hits the side of Muriel's head with a loud _thud._ His head spins, stars swimming at the edges of his vision. 

"I'll never forgive you. You're a MURDER!"

Warm blood drips down Muriel's temple. He feels hot tears welling up behind his eyes. He looks up, refusing to let them fall. Refusing to feel sorry for himself. _  
_

_They're right. I'm a murderer._

The cavalcade leaves the crowded street, a mixture of applause and jeering following in its wake. 

* * *

The cart turns down a dark street, then another, and another...

The cavalcade comes to a sudden halt. Muriel lifts his sore head gingerly and look around. On the sidewalks, men and women in revealing outfits flit about, winking and flirting with passers-by. A group of scrappy young boys huddle in a circle, concealing whatever illicit activities they're up to and casting steely glares at anyone who wanders too close. Guards disembark from the stagecoaches, followed by Lucio and his entourage. A pair of guards un-chain Muriel from the cart and escort him to Lucio's side. 

"Gods!" Lucio exclaims with exaggerated horror. "Looks like you hit a nerve with the _hoi polloi_ back at the night market. No doubt some imbecile complaining that their criminal buddies got what they deserved."

Lucio motions for a guard, who approaches Muriel and (with trembling hands) removes his chains. Lucio leans in toward Muriel and wipes a streak of blood from his cheek with a thumb.

"You saw what people will do when you're with me...I'm sure you can figure out what they'll do if you try running off on your own." He flashed a cold smile and lowers his voice. "I CANNOT have you fuck up this deal for me, understand? Behave yourself and do EXACTLY as you're told, or there will be consequences."

Lucio turns back to the group, throwing his arms open triumphantly. "Let's get this party started!" he exclaims, eliciting an uproar from the pirate horde. Lucio leads the group down a dark alley, finally arriving an arched doorway in the stone wall. A menacing pair of guards stand on either side. One glances up at Muriel, a nervous expression briefly flashing across his face. Lucio tosses each of them a bag of silver. 

"We're renting out the place for the night. Anyone who comes in will get personally escorted to afterlife by the Scourge," he threatens, cocking his head in Muriel's direction. "Got it?" 

The guards nod and step aside, allowing Lucio and his entourage to enter. 

They pass under a series of stone arches, draped in red velvet curtains and illuminated by golden lamps hanging from the ceiling. The last archway opens up into spacious, circular room with a high ceiling. Muriel takes a look around, frozen in shock.

Several seating areas are spread about the room, all furnished with lavish divans and settees. An enormous ruby chandelier hangs from the ceiling, illuminating everything in a scarlet glow. A few young men and women lounge about, completely bare, sipping on crystal glasses of wine. Others float to and fro across the expanse of the room, carrying bowls of exotic fruits and small crystal dishes of illicit herbs. A pair of young women draped in gold jewelry --- and nothing else---perform a suggestive dance near the center of the room. They finish their dance and make their way to Lucio. "We're honored that your Highness has chosen to grace us with your presence," remarks petite, blue-haired girl coquettishly. "Always a pleasure, ladies," Lucio responds with a wink. "Would you mind cleaning up the big guy? We don't want to defile such a _lovely_ establishment with all this blood and dirt." 

"Our pleasure," responds the curvy, silver-haired girl with a laugh. The two women approach Muriel and place a hand on either bicep, guiding him away from the others. "I'm Jasmine," speaks the silver-haired girl, "And this is Iris." Iris squeezes Muriel's arm playfully. "Hmmm," sighs Iris, "Your muscles are huge...are you this big all over?" The two giggle. 

"..." Muriel averts his gaze, looking up at the chandelier in embarrassment. 

"Not much of a talker are you?" teases Jasmine as they approached a velvet-curtained doorway. "No worries, I've always liked the strong and silent type. Lucio probably does enough talking for the both of you anyway, huh?" she winks. Muriel says nothing. Iris stifles another giggle, pushing aside the heavy velvet to usher Muriel into the room. 

The two follow close behind, letting the velvet curtain fall back over the entrance. The room is illuminated by opulent gold-lattice lanterns hanging from the low ceiling. In the center is a grand marble bath, surrounded by candles and burning thuribles. The room is filled with a thick, heady incense. He breathes in and feels a weird tingling sensation across his skin. 

Muriel feels a couple of quick tugs at his waist. Before he can figure out what it was, his belts and loincloth clatter to the floor. He freezes, completely exposed before the two provocateurs.

"Please," he speaks softly, but with a dangerous edge to his voice, "Leave me alone."

Jasmine and Iris look at each other, then back at Muriel with concern. 

"There, there, honey," coos Iris softly. "I think you're just worked up. We wanna help you relax. How about you take a nice warm bath?" 

"..."

Muriel makes his way to the tub, then wades to the deepest part and kneels so the water is up to his shoulders. He peers at the two women warily. _Behave yourself,_ Lucio's words echo in his mind. _Or there will be consequences._ Muriel groans and submerges himself completely. 

* * *

_Everything is dark. You smell perfume and hear the faint tinkling of feminine laughter...it sounds distant, as if you were hearing it from the bottom of a well. You shift your weight slightly, feeling the cool glide of silk sheets against your bare skin._

_You're completely naked._

_Your eyes flutter open. Your vision is hazy as you stare up at the soft light emanating from the lanterns above you. You turn your head and see shadowy figures moving around the perimeter of the room. You try sitting up, only to realize that your hands are bound above your head with satin rope. The panic sets in. You thrash wildly, trying to free yourself from your restraints._

_A sudden slap across your face shocks you into stillness._

"Feisty tonight, are we?"

_Lucio._

"You always manage to be a pain in my ass. Well, tonight you're going to learn some respect."

_You hear laughter and whistles erupt from the looming figures in the shadows. You open your mouth to scream for Nadia, for anyone---,_

_Lucio forces a_ _thick leather gag between your teeth and buckles it roughly behind your head._

_You thrash again a few more times in vain. Humiliated, defeated...you stare up at the lights, awaiting whatever terrible fate Lucio has in store._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skynda dig! (Swedish) = Hurry Up!  
> **pls correct me if I translated this wrong, Swedish-speakers --- I wanted to include some Scandinavian elements since Lucio's culture is based on Scandinavia and Vikings**
> 
> Hoi polloi (ancient Greek) = The low-class, common masses; used in a derogatory way by the upper "intellectual" class of ancient Greek society


	7. Where Angels Fear to Tread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: non-con

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took longer than I thought to get this update done! My new job has me working 11 hours a day and I've been dead tired coming home every night...but thanks to the quarantine and everything getting shut down this past Friday I've had quaranTIME to spend on this story ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Muriel doesn't know how much time has passed when he pulls himself from the tub. The heavy incense is making his head swim. He stumbles, steadying himself on a nearby bench. Thankfully, Iris and Jasmine were nowhere to be seen. He wraps a towel around his waist and slowly scans the room.

A blue curtain, previously hidden in the shadows, has been pushed aside with satin rope. The lamplight shining from the inner passageway illuminates a descending stone staircase. Muriel approaches it cautiously and peers down. The staircase spirals downward into obscurity, lit only by the flickering lamplight from the candelabra on the walls. A uneasy feeling clenches like a fist deep in his belly. He hears the faint echo of voices emanating from the depths and considers running away, but can't shake Lucio's threats from his mind. Muriel straightens himself, takes a deep breath, and makes his way down the staircase. 

The sound of the voices get louder as he descends further, fighting the urge to turn back at every step. After a while --- maybe 10 stories down, he thinks --- he comes to a great wooden door reminiscent of his cell. He freezes. If he opens it, he can't turn back. Maybe it would be better to try and brave the streets alone...but where would he go?

He has nobody. 

Muriel prepares himself for the worst, then opens the door. But he wasn't prepared himself for what he saw in front of him.

A large bed covered in satin sheets was in the middle of the room, surrounded by a cushioned viewing platform. The pirates were lounged about the platform engaging in sexual acts with the club's courtesans. Jasmine and Iris were doing the same on the bed in the center of the room...with you. Your arms were tied above you. Jasmine is seated behind you, rubbing oil onto your full breasts and bare abdomen. Iris sits astride your parted legs, massaging your core with a crystal toy. You squirm weakly and moan in protest through the leather binding in your mouth. 

"Come on love," Jasmine murmurs in your ear, "we're just trying to help you get ready. We don't want you to get hurt."

She gently reaches up and removes the binding to hold a bottle to your lips. She tilts your head back and a bitter liquid fills your mouth. You swallow it and sputter as it burns your throat. 

"Ah-haha, the Scouuuurge has ARRIVED!" Lucio drunkenly hollers over the clamor, and is answered with whoops and whistles. He stumbles over to Muriel and pushes him forward toward the bed. "Alright, show us what you've got big guy..." 

Muriel's eyes darken. He's angry at Lucio for whatever he did to get you here ... angry at himself for the twinges of arousal he feels seeing you laid bare before him ... and angry that he wasn't there to protect you. 

Iris leans over and grasps Muriel's hand, pulling him closer.

"Come play with us..." she giggles and places Muriel's hand on your inner thigh.

You look up at him when you feel his calloused palm touch the soft, sensitive skin. Your eyes lock onto his emerald ones and you see something that strikes fear into your being. His face is set in a scowl, anger raging behind his gaze like a tempest. His muscles are taut and fixed in a predatory stance. Suddenly he is on the bed, looming over you. You try to push away the dark thoughts that cross your mind... _What if I don't really know him like I thought I did...what if he's truly the monster everyone says he is?_

He trails his hand up your thigh and wraps it around your waist, then pulls you to his chest as if you weighed no more than a feather. With his other hand, he pushes your hair aside and leans in.

"Do you trust me?"

You search for an answer...processing a million reasons why you shouldn't trust him, why you shouldn't trust _anyone._ You know what Lucio brought you down here for. Muriel is to use you for his pleasure in any way he wishes...in any way Lucio and the pirates wish to see. _He could've been in on it this whole time...maybe he just wanted one thing from you all along..._

But no matter how wildly your mind beats against it, your heart knew the answer.

"Yes," you whisper.

You see a shift in Muriel's posture, followed by a loud crack and a scream.

He'd pulled on your rope bindings, snapping the thick wooden bedposts like toothpicks to free you. Muriel swiftly lifts you off the bed throws you over his shoulder. 

"GODDAMMIT MURIEL!" screams Lucio, reaching for his sword. Iris and Jasmine scramble of the bed, clutching one another in fear. Muriel barrels out the wooden door and runs up the stone staircase. The pirates and Lucio scramble after the two of you, brandishing weapons and yelling profanities. 

Curtains and swinging lamps pass you in a blur --- you hear courtesans shriek as you and Muriel scramble desperately through each room toward the exit. You hear the pirates not far behind. A brush of a velvet curtain...and you're back in the alleyway. 

Muriel hadn't thought this far ahead. He freezes, mind frantically searching for what to do next. He sees Lucio's carriages parked at a nearby tavern with a large raven perched on the signpost and runs toward them.

"Hey!" yells one of the coachmen. "What do you think you're---"

Before he can finish his sentence, Muriel's pulled the coachman's sword out of his hilt. The coachman scrambles off the carriage in terror. Muriel turns, just in time to see Lucio and the pirates tumbling out into the alleyway. He brings the sword down with a powerful blow, slicing through the trace that binds the horses to the carriage. The royal horses, not accustomed to such chaos, panic and turn loose. Muriel turns to find the other carriage's horses frenzied and bucking uncontrollably.

"You're DEAD, you bastard!" Lucio screams over the pandemonium.

Muriel races down the alleyway adjacent to the tavern. At some point, his towel falls off. He doesn't really care. He just needs to get you to safety. He navigates the labyrinth of alleyways with you in tow, dodging stray animals and the occasional drunk. After some time, you no longer hear the shouts of your pursuants. You hear running water instead. Muriel ducks, then you're enveloped in total darkness. He moves you from his shoulder and into his arms bridal-style and carries you for some distance before setting you down gently. You can't see anything, but you can feel his presence next to you.

"Where are we?"

"...a storm drain or something. I'm not really sure. But I think we lost them."

A long silence passes. 

"We should...get some rest. I'll be over here if you need anything." His tone was distant, impersonal.

"Muriel?"

"..."

You reach out to hold his hand. He pauses a moment, then pulls it away.

"Get some rest," he mutters, then shifts.

Maybe that was the best thing to do after tonight's events. You lean against the cool, damp wall and wait for sleep to settle in.


	8. Kintsugi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!!! FINALLYYYY :D  
> This is my first time writing smut so I hope you guys like it, feedback welcome ofc

You wake to the sound of soft footsteps. You don't remember falling asleep. It takes a few moments to remember where you are. You sit up and notice that a rough wool blanket has been draped over your body. As your eyes adjust, you see the tunnel is illuminated by a glowing orb hovering in front of a cloaked figure. He is flanked by two lean, muscular men suited up in tactical gear. Muriel is crouched defensively on the other side of the tunnel. He glares at the cloaked figure warily as the man extends a wool blanket toward him.

"Don't come any closer," Muriel snarls.

The cloaked man chuckles, then reaches up to pull away the hood concealing his features.

Muriel's intense expression falters, eyes wide in disbelief.

"...Asra?"

The lithe silver-haired man pulls Muriel into a bear hug. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you again, Muri," Asra exclaims, voice muffled slightly by Muriel's chest. "I felt your aura's presence in the tunnels while we were doing patrols and came here right away."

Asra then turns and offers you a hand to help you to your feet. "May I ask your name?"

"Y/N," you reply, then nod politely to Asra's companions. 

"I sensed your magic as well," his face quirks up into a soft half-smile. "A healer, it seems. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You too," you answer warmly. "It's nice to finally put a name to a face. Muriel's told me about the all mischief the two of you would get in to growing up."

Asra's expression lights up. "You broke through that tough shell of his, hm?" Asra winks at Muriel, "You must really like her." 

"..."

Muriel wraps the blanket around his waist and crosses his arms, averting his gaze. A concerned expression briefly flashes across Asra's face.

"We should head back to base camp," remarks one of the patrolmen. "Oh! Yes we should, shouldn't we," Asra replies, then turns back to address you and Muriel. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I promise I'll answer them...but first, follow me."

You and Muriel follow the patrol group through a labyrinth of dark tunnels and damp passageways, illuminated by Asra's magic. After about half an hour, you arrive at a what seems to be a dead end. Asra places his hand on the stone wall, activating a glowing orange sigil in the center. A low rumble shakes the ground below you. The stone wall dissolves like a mist, allowing your troupe passage into a seemingly infinite hall of mirrors.

"Grab my hand and follow me," Asra instructs. You grasp Asra's hand, then reach your other hand out toward Muriel. "So you don't get lost," you offer. Asra nods at Muriel encouragingly. Muriel hesitantly takes your hand. 

You follow Asra through hall of mirrors and emerge into a colorful subterranean sanctuary. From what you've studied about Vesuvia, you figure you must be somewhere in the city's ancient aqueduct system. The water that used to run through the aqueducts dried up long ago. In its place are a mosaic of rugs strewn across the stone floor, with makeshift tents scattered haphazardly among them.

A short, curly-haired boy with thick glasses runs up to your group. "Asra! You're back late, Commander Noriaki was getting worried---" he notices you and Muriel, "Who are they?"

"Old friends," Asra replies thoughtfully. "Go let Noriaki know we've returned, and tell her we will be debriefing a couple new compatriots over dinner tonight." 

The boy scurries away and Asra leads you to a cluster of tents. "These are the barracks," he explains, pulling open one of the tents' entrances. "This one will be yours for the time being. It's not much, but it's the best we can do until the next supply run..." he trails off, his attention focused elsewhere. "I feel a presence calling to me. It might be one of our contacts inside the palace trying to communicate through the fountain. I'll be back soon...in the meantime, there should be extra clothing in the equipment tent near the dining hall." With that, Asra hastens toward a secluded alcove and vanishes, leaving you and Muriel alone.

"..." Muriel stands in silence, keeping his eyes fixed on the worn rug beneath his feet.

"How does a costume change sound?" you joke playfully, attempting to cheer him up. 

"...they probably won't have anything that'll fit me," he responds softly, sounding more withdrawn than usual. "I think I'm going to stay in the tent for a while. Alone."

Muriel glances up and your eyes meet his deep jade ones briefly. He seems conflicted, even ashamed. He turns and ducks into the tent without another word.

* * *

An hour later, you hear the dinner bell clang and echo off the vaulted ceiling of the aqueduct. You'd found a faded linen dress and leather sandals in the equipment tent that fit you well enough. The fresh change of clothes hadn't done anything to ease your worry about Muriel. You rummaged through the clothing baskets in hopes of finding him an outfit as well, but he was unfortunately right about the lack of clothing in his size. Instead, you grabbed some belts, a few bolts of miscellaneous dark fabric, and a heavy cloak to bring him after dinner. You made your way to the mess hall and saw Asra waving at you from one of the tables.

"I grabbed you a plate," he smiled as you approached. "I made sure to grab a few pierogi, they tend to go pretty fast." A stout, powerful-looking woman sits next to Asra. "Commader Noriaki, pleasure to meet you," she extends a calloused hand and grips yours in a firm handshake. "Where's Muriel?" Asra remarks, scanning the room. "He said he wanted to spend some time alone," you respond sheepishly. "Ah...that's not a good sign..." the corner of his mouth quirks downward.

"Well, we might as well brief Y/N," Noriaki interjects. "When Lucio came into power, he banished many of the former ruler's military leaders, advisors, intellectuals, and civilian supporters. What he doesn't know is that we never left Vesuvia. Instead, we took up residence in the abandoned aqueduct tunnels beneath the city. We still have eyes and ears inside the palace, so we know about all the unsavory things Lucio's been up to behind closed doors."

Noriaki sighs, taking a swig of her beer, then continues: "Our aim is to overturn his rule before he can run this great city into the ground, but unfortunately the public adores him. The Royal Press has turned into a propaganda machine ---the public only sees what Lucio wants them to see. We've collected intelligence about his shady business dealings, but without concrete proof we have no way of discrediting Lucio in the public eye."

Asra chimes in: "We were hoping you'd help us figure out a way to undermine his tyrannical rule...it's gone on far too long as is."

You think for a long moment. "Well, I've seen my fair share of Lucio's degeneracy. The whole reason Muriel and I ended up here in the first place is because he struck a deal with pirate to bolster Vesuvian shipbuilding," you face flushes uncomfortably, "and that deal involved trying to force Muriel and I to, erm, _perform_ for his business partners." You let out a shaky breath before continuing, "Thankfully, Muriel was quick on his feet and got us both out of there, but I'm sure Lucio's got soldiers searching every corner of the city trying to hunt us down."

Noriaki nods thoughfully. "Well, that certainly is a lot to process. How about we meet tomorrow and discuss strategy? For now, you, Muriel, and Asra should take this time to catch up and reconnect with one another," she pauses and looks into your eyes, her onyx ones burning with righteous anger, "I want you to know you're safe here. And that Lucio WILL be brought to justice."

...

After dinner, Asra gathers a basket of leftover bread and stew and accompanies you back to your tent. You both duck inside to find Muriel laying face-up on a sleeping mat, staring blankly at the ceiling. He doesn't even seem to register your entrance. 

"Hey Muri," you call softly, breaking him from his trance. "I understand if you don't feel like it, but you really should have something to eat." Asra moves to Muriel's side and spreads out the meal before him. Muriel looks at it with hesitation, but soon his stomach rumbles. He sighs and reluctantly begins to eat. The three of you sit in silence as Muriel finishes his meal. 

Asra breaks the silence. "Muriel, I know you've been through alot since we've last seen one another. And I can sense that you're harboring some heavy emotions. It pains me and Y/N to see you like this," he takes a deep breath, holding back tears. "I would like to do some shadow work together tonight to help get to the root of whatever is plaguing you...would that be alright?"

"..."

You reach a hand up and delicately caress Muriel's cheek. "We both care about you deeply, Muriel," you say softly. At that, he leans into your hand and shuts his eyes tightly. When they open again, they're red and glassy as if holding back tears. 

"I'm a monster," he murmurs. "I've hurt people...I've killed people...and I'm just going to hurt you two eventually too. I've already hurt Y/N." Asra rests a hand on Muriel's shoulder comfortingly. Muriel continues, "There must be something wrong with me...and I can't...I don't want to hurt anyone else."

"Muriel, I know that you would never do those things on your own accord, am I right?" Asra asks gently. 

"No, but it doesn't matter...in the end it always ends the same. It doesn't matter what I want...no matter what things always go badly."

Asra pauses thoughtfully, then continues: "You attribute things going badly to something being wrong with you. You've had your control taken from you for so long, it's understandable why you might start losing sight of the distinction between what's _you_ and what's been _done to you._ But you're free now and you can make your own decisions. You can start taking back that control..." he takes a deep breath and looks into Muriel's eyes, "but if you hold on to the past through guilt, it will continue to control you. You need to let go of that guilt, Muri."

"But it...feels wrong to let go," Muriel counters. "People need to be held responsible when they hurt others. Condemning myself to carry this guilt at least brings some sense justice."

"But you're not the one responsible," you interject gently. "Guilt is only useful if it deters you from making choices you regret...but you're feeling guilty for things you didn't even _choose_ to do. Meanwhile, the man who IS responsible for orchestrating your gladiator fights continues to hurt others without any sense of guilt whatsoever."

Muriel is silent for a long while. You watch his expressions change as he processes the new perspective. He closes his eyes in contemplation.

When he opens them again, they're shining with determination. 

"I can't change the past. But I can do my best to keep more people from suffering...by bringing down Lucio."

* * *

The night concluded with tears, hugs, and a warm sense of restored companionship. Asra and Muriel recount stories from their youth together, reminding one another of funny details and little adventures on the streets of Vesuvia. Asra asks you about how you came to be a healer, and you tell them all about your training back in Prakra. Muriel's eyes sparkle joyfully as you regale the details of the many years you spent as an apprentice mixing potions and casting spells. It warms your heart to see him happy again.

After Asra has left for the night, you dim the lamp in the tent and prepare for bed. Your heart skips a beat when you turn and see Muriel's half-clothed form reclining into the pillows. He smiles at you and scoots over, making room for you on the cushions.

You lay back softly into the pillows and let out a contented sigh. Muriel feels his face warm at the sound. He thinks about how it felt to kiss you back in his cell, before everything happened. 

"...Muri?" you murmurs gently.

"Yeah, Y/N?" he responds, arms behind his head and eyes half-lidded in relaxation.

"I was thinking...well, I still have feelings for you, but we've both been through a lot and so I don't expect anything, but I just thought you should know," you ramble, "and I guess I was wondering-"

Before you can finish your sentence, Muriel's lips are on yours. 

"I thought I'd lost you," he murmurs in a low voice, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

Muriel's kiss is passionate and and heavy, but you can feel tenderness in the way his hand winds its way behind your head and lifts you up into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, enjoying the way the muscles flex and move beneath your fingertips. He pulls you onto his torso with one swift motion. Your dress hikes up against your hips, exposing your bare thighs to him. Your legs straddle his solid abdomen, arms braced on his sturdy pectorals for support. He laces his fingers into your hair and pulls you down to his lips. 

Muriel lavishes you with kisses and your head begins to swim. You feel his abdomen tense and flex between your legs with every small movement. You can't resist the warmth building in your core as you give in to his ministrations. He moans softly, lost in the intoxication your lips against his before trailing kisses down your cheek and against your neck. 

You sigh as he begins sucking kisses into the sweet spot below your ear. His hands wander down to your waist, tracing the hem of your thin dress. He pulls away for a moment,

"Do you want this?" he whispers, voice deep and husky with desire.

"Mmmhm," you mewl, guiding a hand toward your ribcage. With that, he feverishly pulls the dress over your head. You hear it tear and you giggle at his eagerness. 

He smiles up at you before peppering kisses across your collarbones and down to your lush breasts. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and laves it with his tongue. A sharp tooth brushes against it and a moan slips from your throat.

Muriel looks up at you, lust glimmering in his eyes. He places a few experimental nips along your breasts and collarbone, then bites the base of your neck.

You gasp in pleasure as needy ache pulses between your legs. 

Encouraged by your enthusiasm, Muriel grips you firmly by the waist and flips you onto your back. He pins you down onto the mattresses, your legs still wrapped around his waist. He begins sucking red marks into your neck, down to your breasts... You let your legs fall to either side as he continues downward, leaving marks down abdomen. He makes his way to your inner thighs, planting sloppy kisses and love bites along the soft, warm skin. 

Muriel looks up at you through his dark lashes, cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. The sight of him already so wrecked between your thighs sent bolts of arousal straight to your dripping core. Muriel gnaws at his lip; an unspoken question. 

You nod and he pulls your panties off, spreading your legs open for him. 

Muriel takes in the sight for a long moment...then grips the back of your thighs, holding them apart as he licks a slow stripe up your wet folds. You try to squirm, but his strong grasp restricts your movement deliciously. His tongue traces small circles around your clit, testing out different rhythms and watching your reaction to each tiny movement. 

He laves your clit at the perfect angle and white hot bursts of pleasure shoot through your entire being. Muriel continues fervidly as the arousal winds tighter and tighter in your stomach. You squirm, unable to move your legs under his iron grip.

You cum hard, your mind completely void of everything except the pleasure of his tongue. He slowly pulls away from your dripping core and presses soft kisses into your inner thighs. 

"Muri," you sigh, "...I need you inside me." You let your thighs fall open wantonly, tempting him with your swollen, wet pussy. He groans---a raw, primal lust taking over.

He pulls off the belts and the fabric falls away, baring his cock. Your eyes go wide with surprise...you expected him to be big, but seeing it for real was something else entirely. 

He gives himself a few slow strokes before centering himself outside your entrance. 

Muriel claims your lips as he pushes slowly into you. Your breath hitches when he breaches your opening. Even though you were soaking wet, he's a lot to accommodate, and the stretch is painful.

"Just relax and breathe, Y/N," he murmurs into your hair. You notice you'd been holding in your breath. You release it slowly, relaxing your body as you do so.

You feel almost uncomfortably full, and a faint stinging pain around your opening. Muriel pushes in inch by inch until you feel that he can't go any further...but yet he does. As your body adjusts to his size, the pain is slowly replaced by a warm glow of pleasure and he begins slowly, rhythmically pumping into you.

As you adjust to him, squeaks of pain turn to moans of pleasure. Muriel begins picking up speed, pushing deeper and faster. You cry out as his cock hits all the right places deep inside you, and you feel another orgasm peaking...

"Gods," he pants, "you feel amazing..."

You clench around him and cry out in delirious ecstasy. Your walls tighten, pulling a deep moan from his throat. 

His hair is matted with sweat and his eyes are hazy with arousal. He places a rough, calloused hand on your cheek and brushes his thumb against your lips as he continues to pump into you.

You open your mouth invitingly and he hooks his thumb into your soft cheek. You close your lips around his large digit, sucking wantonly as your eyes lock onto his. 

"Oh gods," he moans, thrusts becoming erratic. "I'm close..."

A dark, secret part of you wants to wrap your legs around him and hold him inside as he finishes...

Muriel gives a few more deep, hard thrusts, filling your belly with a throbbing pressure. At the very last moment, he pulls out and releases thick ropes of cum on your inner thighs and swollen labia. 

He finishes with a deep groan, then lays back on the cushions in exhaustion. 

Muriel wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you lovingly against his side. Your hearts beat in tandem as you enjoy the blissful silence together. Muriel's warm hand reaches down to smooth your hair away from your face.

He leans in and presses a gentle kiss against your lips. You trace lazy circles across his broad chest with your fingers. Muriel smiles as his eyes flutter shut, sleep taking over. You snuggle closer and rest your head on his strong chest. The two of you lie in blissful quiet for a long while.

Muriel's body rumbles pleasantly when he breaks the silence:

"...you mean more to me than you know, Y/n."

Your heart leaps at his words. You pepper him with small kisses, then sigh contentedly as you settle in for the night.

After a moment's hesitation, you respond.

"I love you, you know."

You feel Muriel's heart pound in his chest at your confession. He pulls you up into a tender embrace, holding you for what felt like an eternity. You swear you could die happy here an now, enveloped in his arms.

"I love you too."


End file.
